when you can't get through it, you can listen to it
by airauralintensity
Summary: Rocking is hard, 6th grade is harder, and don't even get him started on love. ZS, canon-compliant.
1. Chapter 1

A/N (10.14.2018): Takes place about a year after the events of the movie. Title comes from "Been There Before" by Hanson. I have most of it written, so I anticipate updating once a week! This is unbeta'ed, so any mistakes are mine. Feel free to point out any egregious mistakes via PM or review!

* * *

THURSDAY

Zack couldn't help but stare at her sometimes during practice. Like, he'll be shredding on his guitar, whipping his head around as he lets the music course through his body; he'll just happen to see her in his peripheral vision; and he'll just happen to let her stay there.

Usually she'd be paying rapt attention to the band during rehearsal (taking notes on their progress, any recommendations Dewey made, and even some notable band bonding moments), but Dewey told her that she could have band practise to herself today.

She fought it, of course, but one thing Dewey never compromised on was their musical integrity. "Sometimes bands just need to have fun, be around each other, and jam out, you know? It's what keeps rock music effective against The Man," he ended with a meaningful look directed at her.

She acquiesced and walked over to where the non-musicians sat during band practise, switching her time between following along with their conversation, doing her homework, and listening to the music. Seeing her tap her feet to the beat made his heart race and made him more dedicated to his playing. His fingers flew across the frets, and his feet spun him around. His good vibes rippled throughout the band: Dewey, of course, engaged in his own guitar solo, Lawrence was bopping along to the music, and he thought he actually saw Katie laugh.

It was shaping up to be one of the best band practises they ever had until Patty showed up. She claimed she was just picking up some stuff she left behind when she moved out; but as soon as she crossed the doorway, she started yelling at Ned for "irresponsibly throwing away your life and potential by dedicating even an _iota_ of effort into this pathetic dream of yours!"

Summer had marched right up to Patty—arms akimbo, in her face as much as she could be at 4'6"—and shot back, "That's rich coming from the woman pathetic enough to drive to her ex-boyfriend's house and yell at him in a transparent attempt to win him back."

The whole band watched as the unstoppable force met the immovable object.

Zack had never met Patty before now; but from what he had heard about her, he really didn't know if even Summer could take her.

To everyone's surprise, the corner of Patty's lips turned up in a little smirk. "And just who are you?"

Summer straightened and extended her hand, a business card somehow between her fingertips, ever the consummate professional. "Summer Hathaway, business manager of both the School of Rock band and after school program. The only woman allowed to verbally harass these goons," she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at Ned and Dewey trying to cower behind each other discreetly and failing at both, "is me." She pointed her thumb at herself.

Still smirking, still looking Summer in the eyes, Patty took the proffered business card and ripped it in two. "I won't be needing your contact information, Ms. Hathaway." With one last glance at Ned, Patty saw herself out.

After the door shut, Summer primly turned on her heels to find everyone in the band staring at her, Zack included. He wagered, though, that he was the only one with hearts in his eyes, despite his best efforts to hide them.

Summer pretended to look at the watch on her bare wrist. "It doesn't look like 6 o'clock to me, which means band practise is still in session. I don't hear any 'jamming out,'" she pointedly looked at Dewey for that one.

Dewey grinned maniacally, high on the music and the epic showdown in which Summer had just engaged. "You heard the little lady! Everyone to your rock and roll positions!"

Summer grinned to herself in self-satisfaction before relocating her work to the kitchen so that she would have a table to work on. His eyes followed her as she walked to the other side of the apartment, and he sighed. On Dewey's cue, he started playing again, but he was on autopilot, kind of disappointed that if he wanted to continue to keep Summer in his line of sight, he could no longer be discreet about it.

This had gone on for a few minutes until: "Woah! Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah," Dewey raised his voice above the music. "Stop for a sec!"

All the instruments halted at different times, creating a cacophony of tinny, amplified noise as everyone's heads rose to look at Dewey.

"Uh, what just happened here? We started out wicked strong, but the musical fusion just ain't happening. Okay, who's not fusing?"

Dewey looked straight at Zack as he asked that, and he knew that he'd have to step forward. He made the mistake, though, of looking for Summer out of the corner of his eye, only to find that she was already looking at him. Whatever resolve he had to fess up to Dewey withered away, and he dropped his gaze to the ground in an attempt to fight off the blush he just knew was rising to his cheeks.

"Alright, guys. Y'all gonna have to take five, maybe fifteen. Get your musical mojo back. Except you, Zack Attack. You're coming with me."

Dewey walked over to the entrance hallway, and Zack followed. Dewey turned to face him after determining that they were a safe distance away from any prying ears (*cough* Michelle and Eleni *cough*).

"Okay, spill, man. It's not just today when you've been straddling the line of the zone, and during practice, I need you _in_ that zone."

Zack's eyes darted from the wall behind Dewey to Dewey's hair to the bridge of Dewey's nose to the pizza sauce stain on Dewey's cheek so that he wouldn't have to look Dewey in the eyes eyes before he sighed. "I don't know, dude. I'm sorry that I've been distracted lately, but I've kinda been thinking about… things…" he trailed off.

Dewey's eyebrows lifted. "' _Things_?' What kind of 'things?'" He leaned in really close to Zack and murmured, "You know, if it's about why all of a sudden you're really itchy—"

"No!" Zack's eyes widened then shut in embarrassment. "It's not _those_ kinds of things." He sighed again. He noticed that he did that a lot whenever the topic is even remotely related to her. "Never mind, the only advice you can give me will probably come from your… experience with Ms. Mullins."

He made a face as he finished that statement, and Dewey nodded in understanding. "Ah, _girl_ things. Z, the Finnster has _tonnes_ of experience with females. Alright, lay it on me; who is it?"

Zack itched to turn around to look at her, as he always itched to do whenever he thought about her. He didn't want to give Dewey any clues, though. It's embarrassing enough as it is.

"Oh, I know. It's Little Miss Posh Spice, isn't it?" Dewey guessed. "That's cool; you guys could be like… actually I cannot immediately think of bassist/guitarist couple. That can't be right," he muttered to himself.

"What? No! I don't like Katie!" Zack whisper-yelled, looking back into the room to make sure no one heard.

Dewey rolled his eyes. He forgets sometimes that he's working with 11-year-olds. Super talented, incredibly cool 11-year-olds, but still 11-year-olds. Which gives him an idea. "Oh, no Posh Spice? Ahhh, is it Eleni? Michelle, maybe? Tomika?"

Catching on to what Dewey is doing, Zack got nervous. Eventually Dewey was gonna get to her name, and Zack knows that his blush would give it away despite all his best efforts not to.

Meanwhile, Dewey is staring intently at Zack's face from the corner of his eyes waiting for some kind of tell while he pretends to think of who it is. "I would guess Alicia, but I don't think she's your type. Unless she totally is, in which case, go for it, man. Love knows what love wants. If it's not her, it's definitely Marta, th—oh!" Dewey interrupted himself. "I can't believe I didn't think of Tinkerbell first!"

"It's no one you know!" Zack rushed to say. Dewey raised his eyebrows again, but in amusement. At least now he knows who the special lady is that made his most dedicated band member fail to fuse the past few practices.

Zack started rambling. "She's a girl from school. A new girl! Yeah, a new girl. She sits next to me in… music? She plays the, uh." _"Don't say clarinet, you idiot; that's so obvious,"_ he thought to himself. "The oboe?"

"Zack, it's okay to like Summer, you know."

"I don't," he mumbled to the ground in a half-hearted attempt to dissuade the man from thinking what he now knows to be true.

"Look at me," Dewey said as he placed his hands on Zack's shoulders. After he looked up, Dewey continued, "'So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains, and we never even know we have the key,' and oh my _god_ did I just quote The Eagles? Man, I've gotta stop giving Roz control over my radio. Whatever, just know that you have the power to make what you want to happen happen."

Zack half-smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, man. I'll remember that."

"Think you got it in you for a few more rounds of musical _fu_ sion?" Dewey asked with a flourish.

Zack nodded with a small grin on his face. "YEAH, that's what I'm talking about! Alright, guys!" Dewey yelled as he and Zack reentered the rehearsal space. "Let's take it from the top of 'Edge of Seventeen!'"

"Actually, Dewey," Summer interrupted. "I have an announcement."

As per protocol, the band arranged themselves in a half-circle facing the instrument setup. Summer stood where Dewey normally was, and Dewey stood at the back behind everyone else.

"Okay, so remember how last rehearsal I told you that I was able to contact Alan Krem from the A&R division of Spin City Records?" There were nods and murmured assents. Her excited smile made her pale skin pink at the cheeks, and Zack thought pure emotion made her look better than any amount of makeup could. "Well, now we're in the talks for an actual record deal!"

There was a whispered "oh my god," and then a chorus of screams from the girls and hollers from the guys while Summer had a look on her face of _Yes, I know I'm brilliant. Any and all gratitude is accepted_.

Zack, for his part, could hardly contain himself. He wanted to run up to Summer and swing her around in those cheesy hugs they show in the movies. A record deal, an actual record deal! This is School of Rock's big break! He could see it now: people will listen to their music all over the world, and—

"Is there a catch?" Dewey was, surprisingly, the one to react with the most sanity.

The clamour the band was making moments before quieted down when Summer didn't immediately say no. "Ugh, I knew it," Dewey muttered to himself.

"Wait!" Summer called out. "I only didn't mention it because I knew it would be no big deal for us!"

"Well, what is it?" Leonard asked.

"They want another song." Murmurs broke out once again. "They think 'School of Rock' is great, but it's the only reason they're really giving us a chance. Even after we tweaked 'Step Off' to be something we can play at shows, it wasn't strong enough to be additional evidence of the quality of our music. All they want is some reassurance that we're not some Journey cover band," she said over their voices, which decreased in volume with every word she said.

"We have some time, too. Right now, they're in the middle of some scandal with their branch in LA. Mr. Krem said they won't even have time to view a demo until all of that blows over, and he anticipates that it'll only take another month. If they like us, and I know they will, contract negotiations can start after that."

Realising how legitimate this all sounded, Dewey finally reacted with all his typical gusto, which invited the others to do the same. Amidst all the celebration, Zack searched for Summer, who was making it a point to share in the celebration with as many people as possible.

He was glad to see it. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it or not, but lately her relationship seemed kinda weird with the roadies. (She had tried to be as hands on with the musicians as she was with everyone else, but after stepping on Dewey's toes one too many times, he told her to keep her focus only on the other roles from now on.)

Maybe not _weird_. She was still the bossy, grade-grubbing micromanager he knew and admired, but it was different.

Dewey ended up cancelling the rest of practice and took them out for pizza in celebration, but not without asking everyone to tell their parents (Summer's idea, of course). At this point, the band divided into its usual cliques as everyone excitedly talked about what it would be like to play music in an actual recording studio and hear their songs on the radio.

As Freddy bragged about all the chicks he's gonna score, Zack's attention wandered. He saw that Summer was sitting with Marta, Michelle, and Billy a few booths over, but they weren't really talking to her. Instead, she was looking down at her lap, probably doing something on her PDA.

" _Weird, she's the reason we're all here,"_ he thought _._ _"Maybe this is my chance to talk to her!"_

He turned back to the conversation at his table and heard that they still have not strayed from imagining what the life of a rock star was like, so he started trying to psych himself up.

Breaking the ice would be easy, he reasoned; the shock and excitement from the potential record deal had not lessened at all between her announcement and ordering a pizza slice. It's after they exhausted the topic that he was concerned about. What would he even say? _So, did you manage to finish your homework during practise today?_ Lame.

His mental gymnastics eventually lead to the conclusion that conversations are a two-way street, and Summer would probably have something to say after that. She was an opinionated girl, after all; it was one of the many things that drew him to her because he was so used to not having his own.

Sufficiently psyched up, he turned to face where Summer was seated, only to find that she was already halfway out of the pizzeria.

He looked wildly around to see if anyone else noticed that she just up and left, but everyone else was still engrossed in their food and conversations. Without even thinking about it, he grabbed his stuff and scooted out of the booth, determined to at least walk her home.

Freddy stopped him. "Hey, man, where you off to? The band's all here."

Zack stared at Freddy with thinly veiled disbelief before deciding to let it go. "My dad wanted me to… do something," he finished lamely. He didn't care to hear Freddy's response to that as he turned on his heel and ran to the door.

He really hoped he could catch up to her. _"Turn left; she turned left."_

Sure enough, Zack spotted Summer a little ways ahead of him about to cross the road. "Hey! Wait up!" he called once she reached the other side.

Summer didn't stop, though; she just kept striding purposefully in what he realised wasn't the direction of her bus stop. You have to turn right from the pizza place to get there, but he didn't think about that too much then.

"Summer! Summer, wait up!" he continued calling as he ran after her. She turned around.

"Zack?" she asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? Is the pizza party over already? Did someone get hurt? Does Dewey need help?" she asked in quick succession.

"What? Oh, no, I…" He didn't really think that far ahead. Instead, he asked, "Do you want me to walk with you?"

Her surprise showed on her face. With the corners of her mouth slightly lifted upwards and the faintest hint of pink on her cheeks, she responded, "It's only five-thirty, Zack. I'm sure I can manage to get home by myself. Not to say I don't appreciate the offer, of course."

"Is that why you're walking in the opposite direction of your house?" he blurted out.

She had the decency to look chastised. "Okay, I wasn't _really_ going home."

"Well, I'm in the mood for a walk if you are." He doesn't think he's been this forward in his _life_ , but as soon as he spoke, Dewey's words echoed in his mind and justified that this was actually the best thing to do.

She looked like she wanted to smile but wouldn't allow herself to. He thought it was a pity. "May I ask why?" She fiddled with the detachable stylus of her PDA as she looked him in the eye.

He couldn't tell her the truth at the risk of sounding kinda stalker-ish, but he didn't want to lie either. Not to her, anyway.

"It's on my way. If we're both walking this way, we might as well walk together." He hated how aloof he sounded, but aloof is better than pathetically infatuated.

"Oh, that seems reasonable. Best be going on our way then," she said as she turned on her heel and began walking at the same brisk pace at which he saw her walk earlier. He might just be hearing things he wanted to hear, but she sounded like she wished he said something else.

As he semi-struggled to keep up with her (the girl's got stride), he wondered whether she'd mind conversation. The silence didn't feel awkward, at least on his end, but he was getting the feeling that he should say something anyway.

While he was debating how to break the perceived ice, he heard her faintly humming. If it weren't for the fact that she was the only one there, he wouldn't even believe it was coming from her.

After that day last year, when she sang that song and Dewey all but begged for her to stop, she never sang again, much less hummed. (That was back when all the band madness started picking up; god, was that really just last year?) He felt really honoured to be privy to something she must actively keep from the rest of the band.

He spent a few more seconds of listening to her hum in contentment before his eyes widened. It wasn't just any song. He knew that song.

He _wrote_ that song.

 _Summer Hathaway_ was humming "School of Rock" as she walked to wherever she was going. And it couldn't have been because they played the song at practise today because they _didn't_ play the song at practise today, which meant that it was just stuck in her head or something. Which kinda sorta meant that, indirectly, he was on her mind.

His mind continued to race like this just as she reached the part where his solo comes in. In another burst of confidence (probably from the high of finding out that _she hums his song_!), he stopped walking and started air guitar-ing his part à la one Dewey Finn, making her jump in surprise.

After his impromptu solo, she asked with amusement, "What was _that_?"

He blushed and looked down before bashfully raising his eyes to hers. "You were humming the song, so I thought I'd join in."

Her eyes went wide before she closed them in embarrassment and covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god, I didn't even realise I was humming," she spoke from behind her hands. "It's better a song you wrote, though, than Mariah Carey or something." She chuckled as she shook her head.

That was just like Summer: never apologetic for how she acts or who she is, even when she considers it totally embarrassing. And let's not forget the fact that she was _humming his song_.

Just when he thought he couldn't fall harder.

"You know, it was quite chivalrous of you to walk with me this far, even if it were where you were already headed. I really appreciate it, but I can make it from here if you want to head on home. Thanks a lot, though," she finished with a smile.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he joked.

This time, his attempt at humour worked, and she laughed. He swore if he recorded her laughter, he'd be able to get the band their new song by tomorrow.

They continued walking, and he recognised this part of his route. It's where all the shops were. To his surprise, Summer led him to the music store.

The surprise must have been evident on his face because she explained, "I take clarinet lessons here."

She took clarinet lessons? He didn't know she was that serious about some instrument that she played in music class every Tuesday.

"Oh, did I make you late? I'm really sorry if I, like, messed with your schedule or something."

"Don't worry about it. I plan for exactly this kind of circumstance." At his pretend look of understanding, she explained, "I make it a point to arrive at least ten minutes early to everywhere I go, and I always leave at least five minutes earlier than I'd need to in order to get there in ten minutes, just in case. Besides, why arrive on time when you can arrive earlier, right?"

He smiled inwardly. Summer would never let anyone make her late even if it were the President talking to her. "Oh, yeah, definitely."

Then he started panicking. He's surprised he managed the whole walk here maintaining even a semblance of conversation (and he made her _laugh_ ), but now they were that point where they say goodbye, and he had to make that split second decision to hug her or not or—

Her cellphone rang. "Oh! So sorry, Zack, but I have to take this. Again, thanks so much for walking me! I'll catch you tomorrow?"

He barely nodded his head before she gave him a quick, one-armed hug as she simultaneously accepted the call.

"Hello, it's Summer Hathaway. To whom am I speaking? Yes, thank you for returning my call…" her voice trailed off as she walked into the music store.

He made the rest of the way home in a lucid daze. The day's events were so fantastic he can't even believe half of it was real, much more all of it. However, when he approached the front lawn of his well-to-do suburban home, he was reminded of how very real his life is.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N (10.21.2018): Love it? Hate it? Let me know with a PM or a review!

* * *

Zack's stuff landed on the sidewalk with a dull _thud_ as he gazed at the cars in the driveway in despair.

"No. No, please, oh no. Nonononononono," he desperately wished to himself. A quick look confirmed his fear: the mailbox was empty. From where he was, he could see the light on in the dining room, and he just _knew_ they were in there talking about his future.

A month ago, nearby Townsend Ferris High sent his family a promotional letter, which was wrong on _so_ many levels. First of all, who adds a kid on a mailing list in sixth grade? He's barely in middle school! Second of all, he's probably going to go to Horace Green High School, seeing as how he currently attends Horace Green _Preparatory_. Third of all, thanks to that stupid letter, his parents launched a veritable quest to find the perfect high school for him to attend that will give him the best shot of getting into some Ivy League where he can go to law school and land a job at some firm by the time he's 25.

And it made him want to gag.

So he took on his own quest. Every day since that infamous letter, he filtered the mail and dumped anything related to high school in his neighbour's recycling bin before his parents got home. It wasn't hard when his dad was a lawyer and his mom was the head of an accounting agency in the city; they didn't get home until 7 or 8 sometimes.

So much went on today that he completely forgot about that quest.

He picked his bag up off of the sidewalk and walked towards his house like it were the gallows. As soon as he got inside, he could hear his parents reviewing the pros and cons of the high schools in the dining room.

"Hmm, they have a 98% college acceptance rate, with 23% of those being Ivy League schools." "But, honey, look at the electives he'll have to choose from. It's not a very diverse selection." "He won't even need those other electives. He'll be preparing for college at that point."

Hearing the dreaded c-word finally prompted him to make his presence known.

"Hey, Mom. Dad. I'm home," he greeted with even less enthusiasm than he felt.

"Oh, hello, sweetie! How was the pizza party?" Without waiting for him to answer, she continued. "Your father and I were just looking at the high school mail you've received, and this is something we should be doing as a family."

Zack made his way over to them and looked over their shoulders at the high school they were currently looking at. Warily, he glanced at the list of electives they offered.

"They have music," he noted with approval.

"Oh, not this again," his dad groaned.

"Honey…"

"Don't 'honey' me. You always coddle him and let him think that these fantasies of his are viable options, but they're not. I obviously let him at it for too long. He's here thinking that he can survive the rest of his life on nothing else but his guitar and an encore at a Battle of the Bands contest a year ago, and I won't stand for that any longer."

Zack swore he didn't recognise his father in that moment. Yeah, he knew his dad didn't exactly bake a cake when he stuck with the band, but he didn't know that his dad _resented_ it either.

His dad turned to him. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Zack?"

Zack stared back at him, flicking his eyes between him and his mother, unsure if that was a rhetorical question.

"Seriously, son. What do you want to be? A marine biologist? An accountant, like your mother? Hell, tell me you want to be a mailman, and I'll be satisfied. At least you'd be of service to society!"

His dad looked at him expectantly, and Zack didn't know what the right answer here was. "I haven't thought about it," he faltered.

"Okay, what _have_ you been thinking about, then? Hmm?" his father pressed.

This time, Zack knew there was definitely a wrong answer, but it was also the truth. "School of Rock," he mumbled.

His dad threw his hands up in exasperation. "Exactly my point! Zachary, _there is no future in music_. You'll spend your life hungover or high, sleeping on some person's couch every night in between shows. Or, you'll turn into your Finn friend, masquerading as a qualified professional and taking advantage of innocent children just to pay the rent."

Seeing the look of utter betrayal still etched into her son's face, his mother tried to console him. "Sweetie, just because you'll be a lawyer, or an engineer, or maybe even a doctor doesn't mean you can't still play the guitar! You'll have your free time to devote to practising an instrument or any other hobby you'd like. Once you find something we can turn into a career, you just let us know, alright?"

But this isn't just a hobby for him. A year ago, he may have swallowed his tongue, assented to his parents, and let them continue to plan his life. A year ago, before he met Dewey. Before he learned there was more he could do with a guitar than play boring music that someone else wrote. Before he helped form a band that was actually in the talks for a record deal.

They didn't understand.

"What was that, sweetie?"

He didn't realise that he had said that out loud, but seeing his parents' faces (expectant, waiting for him to give up and go along) and remembering that this band had a real shot emboldened him to prove them wrong.

"This is more than just practising an instrument to me, at least at this point. Playing in the band lets me experience things I never would otherwise, and I'm just _really_ happy. Rock lets me express myself in a creative way, and—"

His dad jumped out of his chair, startling Zack and making him step back. "I cannot believe I am hearing this right now. Are you seriously talking to me about 'creative expression?' You are practically brainwashed!"

"Are _you_ serious? Dad, you didn't even let me finish!"

Not used to hearing his son talk back to him, his dad was shocked into silence for a tense moment before continuing at a lower octave. "I won't tolerate that tone from you, young man. I want you to go to your room and finish your homework before dinner is ready; and if I hear you playing that guitar of yours, I will ground you a week for every note you play. Do I make myself clear?"

Zack grumbled a despondent "Yes, sir" before retiring to his room. He didn't make a sound. He didn't come down to dinner either. He just laid on his bed, waiting for sleep to come.

* * *

FRIDAY

As soon as dawn broke, he got ready and blazed out of the house with a hurried "No time for breakfast! See you later!" yelled behind him.

His dad usually drove him to school, but Horace Green did have a bus program. Catching a ride with his dad wasn't a 'viable option' (Zack rolled his eyes) right now, so getting in a morning workout as he ran to get to the bus stop in time would have to do.

On the bus, he saw Alicia and Katie sitting in one row near the back and Marco in the row in front of them. Alicia saw Zack and waved him over.

"Zack Attack! Get over here!"

He smiled at the sight of some of the only people who would ever understand him. "Hey guys," he greeted as he sat next to Marco. "What's up?"

"We were just talking about you, actually," Alicia said. "Well, you and Summer, really."

That was the last thing he expected to hear this morning, so naturally he choked on his own spit in surprise. "What?" he squeaked out as Marco patted his back awkwardly.

"Yeah, you two kinda disappeared yesterday during the pizza party. No one even saw you leave," Marco said.

"Katie thinks you two are secretly dating," Alicia joked. Zack turned to stare at her with bewildered eyes. Katie just shrugged in response.

 _He wished_. "Oh, haha. That's pretty funny. Imagine? Heh," he tried to laugh.

Everyone laughed at his obvious discomfort before Marco enthused, "So what about this record deal, huh? It's so insane!" He wasn't that loud, but his outburst still drew attention to the group from some other people on the bus.

Alicia said, "Boy, hush! We don't need people knowin' about our business."

"Whatever, but can you blame me for being excited? SOR might finally get our big break!"

"Not without a new song," Katie pointed out.

Marco glared at her. "Why'd ya have to rain on my parade like that, Posh Spice?" Again, she just shrugged.

Alicia spoke up, "Oh, Tomika, Marta, and me were talking about this yesterday. We don't think it's gonna be that much of an issue. I mean, Zack over there," she nodded her head over to him, who was shocked he was mentioned again, "wrote 'School of Rock' in, what? A few days?"

"Yeah, more or less," he agreed. "Dewey also helped."

"Exactly. And we're all pretty talented and stuff. We got this," she affirmed with a sage nod of her head.

Marco perked up again and stuck his tongue out at Katie.

They continued their discussion even after the bus stopped in front of the school campus and as they walked across the grounds to get to the entrance.

It was 7:45 am, which was late enough that the hallways were already a sea of monochrome colours: black slacks, gray dresses, black sweater vests, grey tweed jackets. Occasionally, the gold and olive green of the school's coat of arms would peek through, but everyone still looked pretty much the same.

They entered the classroom to find most of their friends already there. Alicia went to bother Gordon, Marco made his way over to Leonard and Billy, and Katie immediately went to her seat and began reading a book.

Their seating arrangement hadn't changed since Gordon transferred to Horace Green two years ago, which meant that when Summer turned around to talk to Marta, she was able to see Zack slide into his seat. She gave him a brief smile and wave.

" _Be cool_ , _"_ he reminded himself, so he gave a head nod in acknowledgement. At this point, however, Summer had already turned her attention back to Marta.

Zack rolled his eyes at himself and turned around to join in on Freddy, Frankie, and Tomika's conversation behind him. Apparently they had played Call of Duty last night, and there was a glitch on the server? He pretended to pay attention, but he was more of a Halo guy. He instead found himself eavesdropping on the conversation behind him…

"Hey guys! You will not _believe_ the top I just got at Limited Too! Here, check it out." That was Michelle.

Zack heard the slide of her phone across the table, then Marta and Summer gushing over the picture.

Summer said, "Oh that reminds me! Michelle, do you think you and Eleni could order more t-shirts and posters to sell at our next gig? Last time I checked, we were running low."

"Your wish is my command, Ms. Manager," Michelle had responded sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Summer asked defensively.

"You're always in manager mode! It's kind of annoying. You can turn it off, you know."

Zack almost turned around in shock, but that would have totally blown his cover.

"I didn't think I was in 'manager mode.' Like I said: you reminded me, so I brought it up." Summer's voice was polite, but testy.

Marta tried to do damage control. "Aw, Summer, I'm sure Michelle didn't mean it like that. Right, Michelle?"

"Sure," Michelle replied in a clipped tone.

There was a tense moment of silence until Summer said, "In any case, where it concerns the band, I do believe that, as _manager_ , I have a prerogative to delegate tasks as I see fit."

"Well I thought I was talking to my _friend_ , not my manager," Michelle shot back.

Mr. Dunham arrived just then, and the bell rang signaling the start of the day.

Zack's mind was split between the high quality private school education for which his father paid fifteen thousand dollars a year... and wondering if he should try to sit next to Summer at lunch. She could probably use a friend after this morning. He could still sense the tension between Summer and Michelle even though their desks were two feet apart.

One would think that in a class of fifteen, it really wouldn't be that hard to smoothly worm his way to sit next to her on the lunch bench. However, that one person didn't take into account that even though they were all in a band now, they were friends first; and the cliques that they formed before Dewey came weren't ones that can be easily dissolved. Like in the classroom, the lunch bench sitting arrangement has been set for years, and their class is too small for him to casually disrupt it.

With only a half-baked plan in his mind, Zack surreptitiously tried to clean up some of his desk so that as soon as Mr. Dunham's Latin lesson ended, he just had to shove his books into his desk and then be first in the line for lunch. (Each class had to form a line, and their class factotum would lead them down to the lunch room in an organised fashion, such was Horace Green protocol. Three guesses as to who their class factotum was.)

Mr. Dunham obviously had other plans.

"What's the rush, Mr. Mooneyham?"

His head snapped up at having been called upon so unexpectedly. "Excuse me, Mr. Dunham?"

"Your notebook is open, but your desk is devoid of note-taking utensils. Is the discussion on the similarities and differences between the first and second declensions not worth paying attention to for its entire duration?"

 _Damn_. So much for surreptitious. This is one thing he'll definitely miss about being in fifth grade. Ms. Dunham was a lot nicer about calling out her students.

"No, sir."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Mr. Mooneyham. Since you're obviously so enthused about the subject matter, I suppose it won't be a problem for you to compare and contrast the two modes of declension we've covered so far in a thousand word report that I expect to see on my desk before I arrive Monday morning?"

Sounds of sympathy came from everyone in the classroom. Sighing, he lowered his eyes in recognition of defeat. "Of course, Mr. Dunham."

* * *

In the lunchroom, Zack found himself sitting at the open edge of their table with Freddy, Frankie, and Leonard. He tried to block out what happened in Latin in favour of enjoying his lunch and the conversation going on.

"... and that's how Super Mario Bros changed the world," Frankie finished in self-satisfaction.

"Dude, hate to break it to you, but that's a pretty shoddy theory," Zack replied with a teasing smirk.

"Are you for real? That made _so_ much sense!" Leonard cried.

"I'm with Zack on this one. That was about as believable as Summer actually landing us a record deal," Freddy snorted.

Zack reeled at that. "You don't believe she did it? You high fived her for it just _yesterday_. You spent the entire pizza party wondering what it would be like to be a rock star!"

Frankie and Leonard shared looks of indecision, and Zack learned it wasn't just Freddy who didn't believe in her. Leonard spoke up first: "It's kinda weird that the record company she talked about has a convenient month-long distraction."

"Yeah, that's the real big thing. But also, she mysteriously disappeared during the pizza party. People only disappear mysteriously if they're kidnapped or guilty, and she's right over there, so she's obviously not kidnapped," Frankie elaborated the logic that clearly only made sense to him.

Incredulous, Zack fumed, "How do _none_ of you have faith in her after all she's done for the band? Do any of you remember how she was the one that coordinated the whole Dewey rescue mission the day of Battle of the Bands? Or when she had us booked every weekend afterwards for, like, four months straight?"

Stunned by his impassioned spiel, Frankie and Leonard had the decency to look guilty, but Freddy remained unconvinced. "Listen, dude, I'm just trying to keep us real. Summer could be lying, or the record company could have just said whatever to her to get her to stop annoying them. Can't say I've never done that."

"Summer has nothing to gain by lying. And even if she were, the only person who would have something to lose is _me_ because everyone expects me to write the song. Besides, a new song can only do good things for us. We need to actually get started on getting together an EP or something, or else people won't take us seriously. I don't see a reason to be upset in any scenario, so just leave. her. out of it."

Angry and embarrassed at his outburst, Zack stuffed food into his mouth to keep himself from speaking anymore.

"I'm sorry; I'd have held back if I realised I'd be offending your girlfriend. Sheesh," Freddy replied sarcastically.

Leonard aggressively swatted at Zack's back in an attempt to help him stop choking on his food. "What the hell, man?!" Freddy exclaimed as pieces of Zack's food expulsed out of his mouth onto Freddy's uniform.

"I'm good, thanks for asking," Zack rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Leonard," he continued as he waved his friend off.

"What's up with you, dude? You got a crush on Control Central or something?" Frankie and Freddy high-fived at his dumb joke.

As always, Zack's cheeks flamed up, but before he could stutter out something pathetic like "no, but who wouldn't?" the bell rang signalling the end of the lunch period. Thank goodness.

Back in the classroom, Zack could feel Freddy's eyes boring into him from behind (he passingly wondered if Summer could feel his eyes on her sometimes), but he ignored it. He ignored everything that wasn't whatever was coming out of Mr. Dunham's mouth, not eager to repeat what happened in Latin, and the end of the school day came at last.

It's a Friday, which means they don't have band practise again until Monday. As such, he doesn't have real plans for after school today. (God, what did he even used to do before Dewey came into their lives?)

It was fall in Long Island, but it was still early enough in the school year that it didn't feel like it yet. He figured it was a good day to wait outside, before the weather really became chilly. He strolled to one of the outdoor benches and sat down to wait for the school bus that serviced his neighbourhood.

That was where Freddy found him.

Zack gave some sort of head nod in recognition of his friend's presence, but he didn't make eye contact.

"So… What was that at lunch?" Freddy asked not one minute after he took the seat next to Zack. Great, now he didn't even have small talk to buffer him from Freddy's inquisition.

"What do you mean?"

"Zack, I've known you for six years. You didn't even blow up like that when I got us kicked out of the zoo at your eighth birthday party."

Zack shrugged. "You weren't wrong at my eighth birthday party."

"And I'm wrong about the record company?"

"You're wrong about _Summer_ ," Zack said before he could stop himself.

Freddy's eyes widened, then he leaned back against the bench and crossed his arms. "You _do_ have the hots for Hathaway," he said, awed by the realisation.

Zack just wanted this conversation done with as soon as possible. Where was the bus!? "If you want to put it that way, then yeah, sure."

He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and eyes trained on an ant on the sidewalk. Freddy grabbed his shoulder and pulled him upright to face him. "Dude, that is wrong on so many levels."

Zack shrugged him off. (Physically. Mentally is going to be a lot harder, he'll find.) "'Dude,'" he mocked, "I don't care."

"Her nickname is Tinkerbelle for a reason. She's short and annoying and prissy, and she hates fun."

"Glad to know I won't have to fight you for her," Zack sarcastically remarks.

Undeterred, Freddy continued. "You're in a band, man! You're going to be able to meet _so many girls_. Why would you deny your future self your chance with them by getting tied down now?"

"This may sound like a complete shock to you, but I don't determine my self-worth based on how many girls I can kiss."

"If you're basing it off of how many times you blow off your best friend, your self-worth must be through the roof."

" _I'm_ blowing _you_ off? A _real_ best friend would tell me how he managed to go on a date with Camila Santiago last month even though she's two grades above us. I haven't had a crush on someone since my babysitter three years ago, and it's not like I've ever gone on a date before. I have no freaking clue what I'm doing!"

"Nothing, that's what you're gonna do! We're in a band!"

Zack threw his entire body back against the bench in exasperation. "You said that already."

"No, you're not hearing me. All of us are in a band, _together_. If you start dating her and you break up, it'll be so. awkward. People are gonna talk, people are gonna take sides, and eventually the entire _band_ breaks up just because of that whole fiasco. Everyone is going to blame you, and you guys are gonna resent each other more and more every day unless some bizarre twist of events leads you two back into each other's lives in your early 30s requiring you to put the past behind you in order to accomplish the same goal."

Zack stared at him in confusion and incredulity.

"Don't give me that look. The house-cleaning lady watches a lot of those Spanish soap operas, and they're not half bad," Freddy defended.

Zack hated to admit it, but his friend had a point. There would be be so much drama involved if he and Summer dated. But Dewey didn't seem worried about that the other day when he found out about his crush. Maybe…

"That kind of drama isn't worth risking on Cats the Musical anyway. Your babysitter was a freaking smokeshow. Michelle, Alicia… Hell, even Katie would be worth it, and I haven't even heard the chick make any noise that isn't playing the bass or turning the page of a book."

Zack rolled his eyes and looked away, visibly upset. Freddy didn't think he'd have to coach his best friend through a broken heart so soon, but he supposed it had to happen eventually. In a gesture of kindness antithetical to the tone of the conversation, he gently bumped his fist into Zack's shoulder.

"Hey, listen to me. Just because you managed to fall for a sociopath doesn't mean you're SOL. 'Middle school romances' just aren't a thing."

Finally, Zack saw his bus pull up. "I gotta go," he said needlessly. He left towards the bus without another word to Freddy.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N (10.28.2018): All of the characters will be mentioned, but the fic will revolve around Zack and Summer. No one asked, but I do plan on writing an original song for this fic!

* * *

Not needing a repeat of yesterday, Zack threw out the high school mail then went up to his room.

As with most things, he didn't get to choose how it would look: tartan patterned walls in green and rust; burnt orange-coloured carpet; matching bed frame, drawers, desk, and chair in a light wood; an Apple desktop even though he asked for a PC so he could play games with his friends. A guitar stand in the corner plus his acoustic were the only things that had made it _his_ room.

Now though, he had an extra stand with the electric guitar Dewey gifted him, posters on his walls, a growing collection of guitar straps and picks, and a new sound system that would let him hook up his Epiphone and play his CDs, too. If he looked into his drawers, he would see band shirts and jeans interspersed with his polos and khakis.

His own room was a testament to how much this isn't a hobby for him.

He picked up his electric guitar. His parents weren't home yet and won't be for hours. He could play whatever he wanted, however loud he wanted. So he did.

His music reflected his mood: angry. His fingers were flying fast against the frets, his guitar was screeching, and his teeth were clenched against how badly he wanted to scream.

Zack was so pissed off at his dad. _"What do you want to be when you grow up, Zachary? You're practically brainwashed, Zachary,"_ he mocked in his mind. What did his dumb dad know about passion? About being a part of something special? The last time he saw his dad smile was when he got his tax returns this year. He wouldn't know happiness if it hit him like a pile of bricks.

And then there's Freddy, the guy who's supposed to be his best friend. He was gonna ask Freddy about pointers: nice places to take Summer on dates, what he was supposed to do with his hands if she ever let him kiss her. Freddy was gonna tease him, sure, in the way friends did but secretly be happy for him. So much for that. Who was he to tell him whom he can and can't have a crush on?

A lyric came to him then, as did the chords. _I won't let you stand there and tell me that I'm wrong / that I just don't understand, that I'll see before long._ Eb, C, Bb, C.

He stopped playing. That was good. That was _really_ good. He should write that down.

He let his guitar dangle from his shoulders as he turned this way and that, searching his room for his song book. He found it next to his guitar stands within the pile of sheet books for music class, but not without knocking over some of the crap on his desk with the neck of his guitar. Maybe he should listen to his mom when she reminds him to clean his room.

He opened up a blank page in his book and wrote down the lyrics and chords. It's all he had for now, but it was a start.

* * *

MONDAY

The weekend came and went, and it was quieter around the house than normal. Zack was unwilling to speak to his parents more than necessary, and his parents didn't think they did anything worth apologising for. He also couldn't work on the song as much as he wanted with his parents home, but in his notebook he was able to flesh out emotions and thoughts that he wanted to express. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me' except not?" was one of the gems he had come up with.

On Monday morning, he took the bus again. He anticipated there would be a lot of bus rides in his future. Luckily, his friends never asked him about it, taking this change in their routine in stride.

They walked into the classroom together, and he placed his paper on Mr. Dunham's desk as inconspicuously as possible.

At lunch, he made a point to sit next to Lawrence, which Freddy just rolled his eyes at. Luckily though, some of their classmates (*cough Michelle and Eleni cough*) noticed this and didn't question Zack for sitting somewhere else.

He really should hang out with Lawrence more often, he decided. Their energy levels were very similar, and they were both passionate about their instrument. It was nice.

His new seat also meant that he got front row tickets to what happened next.

From further down the table, the topic turned—as it eventually would—to the potential record deal.

"We only have a month to come up with something, you guys! Something _good_ ," Gordon said.

"Why you worrying? You know Zack's gonna come through for us," Alicia offhandedly remarked.

Summer cut in. "Zack may be incredibly talented, but he's just one person. This is _our_ band, you know? We all could try to come up with our songs. Besides, why just stop at one? Since it's on our minds, we could use this month to try to come up with enough material that when (not if!) we get our record deal, we can release an album that much sooner. AC/DC never released a record of only covers, and neither should we."

Zack's mind was swimming with her compliment, but he couldn't bask in how good he felt for long. "I didn't think we asked you, Summer," Michelle replied.

Summer was incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you can't _manage_ this conversation." Eleni was clearly filled in on what happened last Friday.

Zack could only watch in shock. Why did this keep happening to her? "I was just saying. I think I made a really good point, which you probably would have noticed if I weren't the one who said it."

Billy scoffed. "Summer, get off your high horse. We're not at band practise; you don't have power here."

"I was just making friendly conversation!"

"That only works when you're acting like a friend!" Eleni said back.

Summer only said, "I was under the impression I _was_ your friend," before standing up, collecting her things, and exiting the cafeteria.

* * *

That day, Summer got her second ever demerit for abandoning her class factotum duties and leaving the cafeteria before the end of the lunch period. Everyone would have been absolutely shocked if they hadn't been there to witness the circumstances that lead to her behaviour in the first place.

As a result, the afternoon waiting period between the end of the school day and band practise was rather chilly in atmosphere.

Usually, the class was pretty excited about Mondays because it's the first day of band practise after a music-free weekend. School let out at 3, but practise didn't start until 4:30 to accommodate the classmates who were in afterschool clubs. Zack and the rest of them usually spent that time together hanging out and doing their homework in the hallway near their classroom, but today everyone was understandably quiet.

One by one, the rest of the band joined them, and conversation actually picked up a little bit. But then Summer came back from student council, and silence reigned once again.

Once the entire band was out, they walked to the corner of the parking lot where Billy's mom would pick them all up to take them to Dewey's apartment. Their parents originally took turns bringing them, but over time the other parents eventually left it up to Ms. Faltudo since she had the biggest van.

The atmosphere warmed up now that they were all on their way to band practise, easily the highlight of all of their weeks. Zack was feeling it, too. He loved making music with his friends, and he loved hanging out with Dewey now that he wasn't their teacher anymore. But at the same time, he couldn't help but notice Summer hadn't said a word the entire trip there.

"Alright, everyone! I have some big plans for today!" Dewey began as everyone deposited their coats and bookbags around the apartment.

"I spent the entire weekend thinking about the awesome news Summer gave us, and I bet you guys did, too, _so_ : We're going to practise with our thinking muscles today instead of our music muscles."

At the confused looks from the band, Dewey explained, "Remember last year when we all were just talking about things that really pissed us off and then we came up with 'Step Off?' It's gonna be just like that! We're gonna pair up and just vent about sh-stuff." Scattered giggles erupted when Dewey censored himself. "We'll group together later and share our thoughts with the class."

Excited chatter started up, and Zack once again thanked god for how Dewey managed to be exactly what he needed exactly when he needed it.

"Bup-bup-bup-bup-bup!" Dewey hushed them. "I'm not done yet. I want all the music makers to pair up with a not-music-maker. To shake things up a bit, I'm assigning pairs."

Light-hearted groans replaced the chatter, but people were still excited.

"We have an uneven number, so Carrot Top, you're coming with me. It's about time I extolled to you the virtues of dry ice. I expect you to share the wealth with Roadrunner when we're done here."

Marco and Gordon nodded at each other as Dewey looked around the room to pick pairs. Dewey gave Zack a meaningful look, and Zack knew there was no god.

He didn't bother looking to see Freddy's reaction as he walked behind Summer to the apartment's dining table, but he could imagine it just fine. He was more than prepared to follow Summer's lead on this, but surprisingly she wanted him to take the lead.

"Music writing isn't my area of expertise, and a good leader knows when to delegate according to skill," she said.

She shuffled in her seat a little bit, pen and notebook in hand, ready to take notes. She was so cute. There was nothing like an assignment to bring Summer back to her usual self.

"So, tell me. How did you write 'School of Rock?'"

Well, shoot. It may not seem like it, but "School of Rock" was a really personal song. He may be hopelessly crushing on Summer, but he wasn't hankering to share one of the deepest parts of himself with her. Not until he knew how she felt about him, at least.

He considered making something up, but she looked at him so expectantly, eager to learn more about the songwriting process. He was never good at thinking on his feet anyways.

"Uh, well. I guess I should start with how… stifling it is at home." Summer's eyebrows shot up, but she nodded for him to continue. "My dad is definitely the domineering force in the house, and I don't have other siblings so all of that attention, all of that pressure, gets dumped on me. He's the one who said guitar, but not electric. He's the one that said Horace Green, not Milton Prep, even though it was closer and cheaper… I just did whatever he said because I didn't know how not to."

He was on a roll. He wasn't looking at her anymore, just somewhere above her left shoulder.

"But then Dewey came along, and… I don't know. It was the first time I was allowed _not_ to do whatever I was told. I think that's the case for a lot of us, actually. And Dewey never really told us what to do, not really. He kind of… coached us instead of ordered us around.

"It was honestly the most confused I've ever been in my entire life, but it was… freeing? And in that space, I found the room to really be myself. I wrote the song as a tribute—as a thank you, mostly—to the one person that's ever really earned my respect."

His jaw shut with an audible _snap_ when he realised he'd been talking way too much. He could feel the heat on his face, and his eyes widened with mortification. He didn't even answer her freaking question!

"But, uh, anyway. The melody and lyrics came easy because there was inspiration there, but it was really kinda random. Plus, you saw how Dewey took what I had and built on it," he quickly finished.

Summer was clearly not expecting that answer. Her mouth was kinda gaping, and her pen was frozen from where it was originally poised over her notebook.

 _Nice going, Mooneyham. Too much, too fast._

Just when he was about to apologise and beg for her to pretend that never happened, Summer deliberately placed her stuff on her lap and licked her lips. She said, "I would have to agree that Dewey was one of the best things to happen to me, to all of us. It's so obvious that his lackadaisical attitude is exactly what we needed to be exposed to at this time of our lives… But at the same time, it's hard not to resent him for that as well.

"Since he's so lax, it's often up to me as the band manager to get us all in line, but I don't know how to be the manager of the band and a friend to my classmates at the same time. When I need our friends to see me one way, they only see me as the other. You were there at lunch; you know what I mean."

He didn't dare blink, breathe, or move in response to her acknowledgement of him. If he interrupted her and she stopped, he would never forgive himself.

She continued, "I've actually been contacting music studios for the better part of six months. Obviously, a record deal would be huge for all of us, but this is something that a good manager _and_ a good friend would do. I was hoping it would be the segue I needed to bridge that gap in perception."

She smiled a self-deprecating smile. This was obviously something that had been on her mind a lot, more than just these past few days when all that stuff happened. "Sometimes I wish that I picked something other than clarinet on the first day of music class. Maybe then I'd have a role in the band that everyone else appreciated, and I'd be viewed as an equal instead of an other."

She came back to herself, and it was a physical change. She sat upright with her shoulders back, and she did a little hair flip. "But c'est la vie. I know who I am, and I'm good at what I do. It's everyone else that needs to catch up."

Once again, song lyrics came unbidden. _I won't need your acceptance when I have my own; I don't need you to discover what I already know._

"What?" Summer asked.

Zack shook his head to clear it. "'What' what?"

"I don't know, but you made a face. Did you think of something?" Summer's excitement and satisfaction at having completed an assignment correctly shone through.

Not fully comprehending what just happened, he said, "Uh, yeah, I think so."

Summer smirked. "Excellent." She shot her hand up and called out, "Dewey! Zack and I have come up with something!"

Zack flushed when everyone turned to look at Summer, but he tried to keep his chin up. If he couldn't stand attention, he'd never survive as Summer's boyfriend.

"Alrighty then, little missy! I think enough time has passed anyway. How about this: We'll start with Tinkerbell and Zack Attack, and we'll go around the room in a circle."

Everyone nodded their assent and looked to Zack and Summer to begin. In response, Summer turned to Zack, and he startled a bit when he realised he needed to act. He briefly entertained the idea of singing the lyrics Summer's words had inspired, but she was _right there_. He embarrassed himself in front of her enough for one day. So he threw on his guitar and played the chords and lyrics he had come up with the other night.

"Uh, that's it."

People around the room nodded their heads appreciatively when he finished. Dewey did too, but he looked especially proud. Zack smiled back at him.

Summer spoke up, obviously impressed. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said inspiration strikes randomly. That had almost nothing to do with what we were talking about!"

"And that's our lesson for today!" Dewey exclaimed in an exaggeratedly nasally voice, which got everybody chuckling. They called it his 'fake substitute teacher voice.' "Inspiration can strike at any moment! Be open to it." He cut the melodrama out. "Good work, Summer, Zack," he said while giving them a thumbs up, but the twinkle in his eyes let Zack know that the music wasn't the only thing on which Dewey was complimenting him. He blushed and shrunk into his shoulders a bit.

They went around the room. Some pairs had no ideas, but the things that made Dewey awesome was that he didn't have expectations and that he didn't get upset if you didn't do something correctly. Even though he gave them all this assignment, they weren't afraid to say if they didn't have an answer. If only all teachers could be like that.

Other pairs had only come up with melodies or only lyrics, which was cool. Declaring it a successful "brainstorming sesh," Dewey called everyone to their rock and roll positions for some warm-ups and casual jamming until their parents picked them up.

He carpooled home with Marco and Katie. They had light conversation about how to do the homework and what they thought was going to be for lunch tomorrow (Zack's money was on burgers and fruit cups), but his mind was still thinking about what Summer had revealed.

He was dropped off first, and his thoughts continued as he dumped the mail (how is there literally mail _every day_? how many high schools even were there to choose from?), did his homework, and played some video games.

He had never seen Summer that vulnerable before. She always seemed so sure of herself, like nothing could bother her. But at least now the past few months made sense. There had to be something he could do to help her, but he couldn't think of anything.

* * *

TUESDAY

The atmosphere was more lax than it was at school yesterday. Summer seemed to be back to her old self, but there was no mistaking her wistful glances towards the new black dot next to her name on their progress chart at the front of the classroom.

Today they had music studies, and they were running through a number they've played before: the adagio from _Concierto de Aranjuez_. If he had to pick a favourite from this class, this one would probably be it since it featured the guitar and required some techniques that were more advanced than he usually got to use.

His eyes casually wandered around the classroom. Past their flute section (Alicia, Eleni, and Gordon), he saw Summer as she took her cue, lifted her clarinet to her lips, and started playing.

Her words from yesterday resounded in his head. _"Sometimes I wish that I picked something other than clarinet on the first day of music class. Maybe then I'd have a role in the band that everyone else appreciated…"_

That's it! He's a genius!

At this revelation, he may have accidentally seriously botched his part, resulting in Lawrence getting his fingers tripped up, which caused Gordon to stop playing to turn around in shock, and the entire song devolved from there. Freddy, the agent of chaos that he was, just started banging his cymbals together to contribute to the noise.

Ms. Sheinkopf tried her best to get everyone quiet and settled, then turned to give Zack a sharp look.

"Sorry," he muttered rotely, but he really didn't care. He just came up with the best idea of all time!

He was going to write a part for Summer to play in the new song.

* * *

That afternoon, as he was trying to do his homework, he was distracted by his new quest. How was he going to write song for Summer to play if he didn't know the first thing about clarinets?

He gave a brief thought to his homework, but he never would have the chance to work on the song once his parents got home. Besides, no one ever got famous from doing homework.

As most eleven year olds would, he started on Wikipedia. So the clarinet is mostly a jazz instrument when it's not being used in an orchestra, huh? He didn't have a lot of experience with jazz, but he could work with that. Hm, what about clarinet covers of rock songs? Woah, apparently Gail Ann Dorsey accompanied David Bowie on the clarinet once! That was promising.

After a while, he felt like he had a good understanding of what a clarinet could do and even found some more melodic inspiration for his song while he did his research (thank you, Malcolm Arnold). He toyed around with the guitar chords he came up with before and was able to determine some natural progressions off of that, but nothing still fit together.

As far as lyrics were concerned, he didn't have any more ideas aside from the themes he had some before. Oh! He did like what Katie and Leonard had come up with yesterday, despite its unconventional inspiration.

 _("Katie and I were talking about finally speaking up about something that's been bothering you. For her, perpetuated gender stereotypes in western education systems. For me, all the conspiracy theories surrounding Notorious B.I.G.'s death."_

 _Everyone stared at Leonard in awed silence. Katie just nodded her head to confirm his ramblings._

" _Anyway, we came up with a rhyme but no tune. '_ This is the first time it's my voice, but not the first time by my choice. Take what I say seriously; it's honestly coming from me _,'" Leonard continued._

" _I gotta say," Dewey cut through the silence. "I didn't really see that coming, but I dig it.")_

Zack wrote that down on the margins of the pages in his song book dedicated to this project. At this point, he had about three pages worth of music and two pages worth of lyrics. _"There has to be a song in here somewhere,"_ he thought to himself.

After dinner, he ended up taking pictures of his notebook and emailing them to Dewey. If anyone could make sense of this stuff, it would be him.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N (11.11.2018): So sorry for the late update! My dad came down to visit me last week, and I didn't like the idea of updating on a day that wasn't a Sunday for my own compulsions. Thanks for your patience, and please review!

* * *

WEDNESDAY

When it came time for lunch, he wasn't sure if he wanted to sit next to Freddy or not. They hadn't really talked since last Friday. He was still annoyed at his friend; but if Freddy didn't mention it again, neither would he.

Freddy made the decision for him. In the lunchroom, Freddy reached out for Zack's shoulder and forcibly sat them next to each other.

He made Frankie and Leonard sit near them but not butt into their conversation, and then he faced Zack.

Zack looked at Freddy and wondered what he wanted. Freddy sat with his hands steepled over his lunch tray but made no move to talk. Zack, to his credit, didn't question it and just started eating his food. It was meatloaf and steamed vegetables. Zack smirked to himself; Katie was off by one day.

"First there was that thing in Latin. Then yesterday in music. You're getting chewed out by our teachers like you're me. This Summer thing is really getting to you, isn't it?" Freddy started.

Zack's eyes widened, and he almost spilled his chocolate milk on the table in his efforts to keep Freddy quiet. "Dude, shut up!"

"Relax. We literally have a security detail on this conversation, and they're not gonna say anything. We're as close to private as we can get without leaving the cafeteria like your girlfriend."

Zack groaned and rolled his eyes. "I wish you'd just leave her alone."

"I wish you had told me about it sooner. I'm your best friend!"

"Can you blame me? You weren't exactly jumping for joy when you found out."

"I was caught by surprise."

"Yeah, that's why you had a three-tiered rebuttal. Because you were 'surprised.'"

"When did this even start being a thing?"

"Sometime last spring. What's it to you?"

"Dude, that was, like, six months ago! What the hell? Last time I checked, you guys didn't even hang out outside of school and SOR."

Zack was wary. "Do you really want to know the story? Are you going to use this against me later somehow?"

Freddy just shrugged and said, "No promises."

Against his better judgement, Zack trusted him. "So remember when Summer got us that gig at the Carroll Place?"

* * *

It was a Thursday when Dewey had cut their band practise short after warm-ups.

"Why did you bother making us warm up when we weren't even going to play?" Freddy whined.

"'Tip of the tongue, teeth, and the lips,' mister," Dewey had responded without even looking, which was his way of saying 'If you don't keep practising the basics, you won't have the foundation you need to truly excel at your craft' if Dewey talked like that. "I promise that when Summer finishes her announcement, you won't even care. I know I don't."

And he definitely didn't. Dewey was more manic than usual, which left everyone wondering what could possibly be the news as they gathered into a half-circle and waited for Summer, who looked unnecessarily pleased with herself, to begin.

"So, as many of you may have realised, we haven't had any performances lately."

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" snarked Freddy under his breath. Summer clearly heard him though and glared at his direction. Freddy just made a face in response, and Zack and Frankie laughed.

"Well, yes. I'd rather have us playing for crowds that would appreciate our talent if I could help it instead of playing at a bowling alley for the fourth time in a row," Summer snipped.

Dewey cleared his throat. "Anyway, I finally got us a booking," she proclaimed with her hands on her hips.

This was, of course, good news, but it wasn't that big of a deal. A few months ago, Summer had them booked every single weekend. It would have wasted too much time to announce it like she did now, so she took email correspondence for them and their parents instead.

"Tinkerbell, get to the good part!" Dewey enthused.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and finally shouted, "We're playing at the Carroll Place on Saturday!"

"What's the Carroll Place?" someone, probably Marco, tried to ask, but no one could really hear him above the din Dewey was making.

"WOOOOOOOO! THE CARROLL PLACE, MOTHER-TRUCKERS!" Dewey screamed while running around the apartment with his hands above his head.

"What's the Carroll Place?" Frankie tried again.

Ned poked his head out of his bedroom. "Wait, you guys are playing the Carroll Place this weekend?"

"What's the Carroll Place?" Alicia asked, louder this time.

Satisfied at the level of activity her announcement created, Summer only heard Ned. "Yep. All thanks to me, we're playing the Carroll Place."

"WHAT'S THE CARROLL PLACE?!" Katie shouted above everyone, a furrow in her brow and slightly pouting.

That finally got everyone's attention. It wasn't always that Katie was the loudest person in the room, after all.

"The Carroll Place is one of the hottest venues in the city! Springsteen played there in 1976! Aerosmith in '84! And now, School of Rock in 2004!" Dewey freaked out.

Finally realising what a big deal this gig was, everyone else slowly started freaking out. Ned even came out of his office to join in the celebration.

Summer let them have this moment for just a while longer before she was back to business. "Alright, alright! The concert is in two days, and we have a lot of work to do. We want to make this our best show to date, people. Even better than our showing at Battle of the Bands. Obviously, the band needs to practise and finalise the setlist for this weekend. Dewey, I'll let you go ahead, but you and I need to talk more later. As for everyone else…"

Zack tuned out the sound of Summer's voice as she started regaling instructions for the roadies and followed the rest of the musicians to a different part of the apartment.

He really had to hand it to Dewey: making Summer their band manager was such a smart move. No one else in the class could pull it off as well as she could.

That was the last thought he spared anything else before focusing on Dewey's goal to make their show an homage to the rock gods that came before them.

Summer must have emailed their parents during band practise with the information and the club's waiver to let underaged persons onto the premises because when his family sat down for dinner, Zack's parents knew about it before he said anything.

"So you're playing the Carroll Place this Saturday?" his dad asked nonchalantly.

Zack, however, was too excited to notice. "Yeah! We're all pretty stoked."

"Aw, that's wonderful, sweetie! Can you get us tickets?" his mother asked.

Zack's answering grin was wide enough to hurt. "Sure, I'll check! That would be cool if you guys could come."

"Darling, we have that gala to attend on Saturday evening," his dad reminded. "We sent in our RSVPs ages ago, and it would be rude to cancel on them on such short notice."

Zack didn't even know how much he wanted his parents to be there until they couldn't go. He looked to his mom, hoping for her to say something like "We can be late, can't we?" or "But it's the Carroll Place, honey!"

Instead, she said to Zack in an apologetic tone, "I'm sure you'll have a fantastic performance, sweetie. They won't know what hit them." At least she actually looked dismayed by it.

Zack shrugged in an effort to seem unperturbed and stayed silent throughout the rest of dinner.

The bad news just kept coming: the next day, he got his paper back on the levels of conflict within Lois Lowry's The Giver.

Right on the top of the page in red ink? C+. Please see me after school.

Zack groaned and sunk into his seat. Great.

Horace Green protocol mandated that all assignments earning below a B- must be signed by the student's parents and brought to the teacher by the next school day. He could already imagine his dad's outburst when he told him about this.

"I knew it! It's that good-for-nothing band," his dad yelled later that afternoon.

He had to say, though, he didn't imagine that.

"What do you mean?" Zack asked. He made sure he sounded more confused than defensive, or else this would get a lot worse before it got any better.

"That little band of yours is sucking all of your attention, Zachary. You've been talking about it nonstop since that Battle of the Bands nonsense, and now you're failing assignments! You're spending way too much time with that low-life Finn."

Zack was offended on behalf of Dewey. He wanted to say something, but talking back to his father was never an option.

Seeing the look on her son's face, his mom stepped in. "Oh, don't you think you're being a little hard on him? He didn't fail the class. Surely, Ms. Dunham can give him extra credit to make the grade up."

"Oh, he's going to do a lot more than make the grade up," his dad said to his mom before turning to Zack. "As soon as I can find one, you're getting a tutor."

Zack's mouth dropped open in shock. Tutoring? His grades were fine; it was just this one paper! He had submitted it one day late (a 10% penalty), and he may have accidentally kept referring to the author as a 'he.' It wasn't his fault that her name looks like Louis!

"I think you should hear him out before you make any hasty decisions, honey," Zack's mom had encouraged.

Letting out an angry huff, his dad looked at him expectantly. Zack licked his lips to stall for a beat. "I will admit that this was not my best work," he began slowly, "but I think you should give me one more chance before you decide to spend the money on tutoring." He knew his father: making the claim for himself that he didn't need tutoring wouldn't work, and bringing up money always helped.

With his son's words and his wife's imploring gaze, his dad acquiesced. "Fine, but if you don't finish your homework before the show tomorrow, you will not be performing."

"But dad, I have all day Sunday to do it!" His shock caused him to speak out, but he had enough presence of mind to keep the desperation out of his voice. Barely.

"No, you'll have all day Sunday to double check your work. I'm still not convinced this has nothing to do with your little music club. You have until your show to complete it, and that's final."

That amounted to two days' worth of homework all before call time the next day. There's no way he was going to pull this off, but dammit what choice did he have?

He tried to forgo dinner in order to have more time, but his dad wouldn't let him do that either because 'family comes before everything.' Instead, Zack resolved to wake up as early as possible to do all the homework during the day Saturday.

He usually did his homework at the dining room table, but he couldn't stand hearing his dad puttering around the kitchen, making his morning coffee and acting like nothing was wrong. He went to the library instead. It was nine in the morning, and he was hunched over his books at a table in the middle of the room, trying his hardest not to get distracted when he heard his name being whispered.

"Zack? I didn't even know you knew where the library was," Summer joked. "What are you doing here? Especially at this hour; I thought you didn't know how to wake up before noon on a weekend."

Zack internally groaned. He didn't need Summer's sanctimonious attitude today of all days. "First of all, you're confusing me with Freddy. Second of all, lame family stuff. Short version: If I don't finish my homework before the show, I'm not going to be at the show." He ended this statement by throwing himself back on the seat, crossing his arms, and rolling his eyes.

Summer had sat down next to him as he was speaking. She pressed her lips together for a moment before doing what she did best: taking charge of a situation. "So, I already did most of the homework. Let's do the last few assignments together; and when we're done, I'll just… stick around? I came here to get started on research for our term paper due next month, anyway. And you can ask me for help when you get stuck so that you don't have to waste time making mistakes. My mom is going to pick me up later; you're welcome to join us if you don't mind being early."

Zack hesitated. That sounded like a really good deal, but spending an extended period of time with his bossy, grade-grubbing micromanaging classmate was not exactly his idea of a fun Saturday.

Summer saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes. "Okay, you don't have the option anymore. We're doing this. If you can't play the show, we'll never be allowed back at the Carroll Place again. I won't sit idly by and watch you jeopardise mine and my band's reputation."

Well, that was that. Zack smirked. "Your band?"

Summer huffed and bent down to open her bookbag. "We're starting with the math homework," she commanded.

Contrary to his previous conviction, it was not the worst Saturday he'd had in his life. He knew Summer was smart, but Summer was, like, really smart. Whenever he asked her for help, she was able to explain things better than Ms. Dunham even could for some of the topics.

Plus, she was really funny, another shocker. She wasn't a comedienne or anything, but maybe it was because he didn't expect it that she was able to make him laugh more than once, to the ever-growing chagrin of the librarian.

By the time Summer's mom had arrived almost eight hours later, Zack's homework was completed on time and in full, and Summer found a few good references to use for the paper. He may have teased her for working on an assignment that wasn't due for a whole month, but it actually got him thinking about what he was going to write about, too.

"Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Hathaway," he said as he slid into the middle seat of their Volvo V70. "Of course, Zachary. We're going to the same place; it was only prudent. Have you told your parents about the change in transportation?" she had asked. She carried herself like the judge she was, but her voice was kind. Zack could easily imagine Summer growing up to be just like her.

"I sent him a text, but I don't think he saw it yet," Zack responded.

Mrs. Hathaway nodded, never taking her eyes off the road. "When we get there, I'll call your mother for you and let her know. Room parent responsibilities never cease, huh, Summer?"

"Of course not, mom," Summer smirked. Zack was confused, but it was probably an inside joke or something.

Just like Summer said, he was early: a whole hour before everyone else was supposed to be there.

"I have to go talk to the bookings manager, but just hang out or something. I trust that you know what you're doing?" she dismissed.

He had wandered into the green room on autopilot; but without Billy there he had no costume to change into, and without Dewey there he had no instrument to practise with. He stuck around for a bit so that he wouldn't feel silly leaving a room he had just entered, but then he left and walked around the backstage for a bit.

He found Summer's mom on her PDA waiting by the backstage door. "Hey, Mrs. Hathaway. Are you staying for the show?

"Not tonight, but Summer needs me to sign some things on her behalf. Signatures from ten-year-olds aren't quite binding, no matter how astute those ten-year-olds are," she joked.

Zack nodded in response. He didn't think a lot about about it, but it was probably a lot of work to manage a band. Yet, here Summer was, doing the work that some people are doing in their mid-thirties and probably just as well as them. "Go, Summer," he approved in his head. "Really sticking it to the man."

As if reading his mind, Mrs. Hathaway continued. "I used to take that as an opportunity to look over the contracts as well, just as a professional second opinion. At first, there were always a few clauses that I would point out, but over time she really has trained herself so that neither she nor your band are taken advantage of. In fact, she is quite the negotiator. You're getting paid twice as much as the clubs want to pay you, and they have to pay you quite a lot to begin with since you're all children. She mandates that your entire road crew be allowed backstage and arranges for them to shadow the club's professionals. Where feasible, she even insists that the road crew do the work themselves. Her father and I are quite proud of her," she ended with a small smile.

Zack looked up at her in mild shock. "You and Summer's dad don't mind that she works on the band?"

Mrs. Hathaway's smile turned rueful. "Did I mind that she wasted three weeks of schooling because of Mr. Finn's duplicity? Absolutely. Do I mind that she took the initiative to turn a passion project which had originated as a half-baked scheme into a full-fledged, legitimate enterprise that has afforded her and her classmates extraordinary professional development opportunities? And all in a year's time, no less! How could I ever?" She paused for a moment, taking in the surroundings of the backstage before remembering to whom she was speaking.

"And her father was always a fan of rock music and such. He didn't need much convincing," she ended with a chuckle.

Zack's chest burned with jealousy. He could only hope that one day his own parents would be as supportive.

Mrs. Hathaway eventually excused herself to help Summer, the rest of the band showed up, and Zack pushed aside his thoughts to keep his bearings amongst the mayhem typical of a pre-show backstage. Before he knew it, he was in costume, on stage, in front of hundreds of people. Standing room only!

Based on the vibe in the room, a lot of people probably weren't expecting much from a bunch of kids and a man who forgot to shave. But of course, once they started rocking, the entire club did, too. They ended, as they always did, with 'School of Rock;' and just like Battle of the Bands, the crowd wanted an encore.

It was probably their best show yet. He definitely thought it was, especially since he was this close to not even being able to play it.

The post-show backstage was no less full of hustle and bustle, but it was calmer somehow. Everyone's adrenaline started to wear off, leaving only a rush of elation. People would sometimes stop what they were doing to give high fives for a job well done, and intermittent WHOOP!'s could be heard around the area. Just good vibes all around.

Zack saw Summer across the way and raced to catch up with her. "Hey! Hey, Summer!" He weaved in between people and equipment in order to get to her, and he reached out and held her upper arm for a moment to get her attention. She jumped at the unexpected contact and twisted around to face him.

"Zack! What's up?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, just a little bit bashful. "I just wanted to thank you again for helping me today. I know you were just doing it 'cause you're our manager, but still. That was awesome of you."

Distantly, he heard Marco calling out to Gordon. "Roadrunner! Can you get the lights?"

In front of him, Summer said, "Of course, Zack! Can't play a kick-ass show without our kick-ass rhythm guitar, right? Besides, what are friends for?"

Gordon faced the spotlight downwards just as Summer smiled.

Oh.

It was like Zack was he was looking at a photograph for how clearly he could see every detail: the flush on her cheeks from running around making sure everything was going smoothly, the crinkle of her eyes as she smiled, even the little dust particles in the air being illuminated by the spotlight. And yet, everything else besides her seemed to be out of focus.

Summer's head turned towards the next thing that got her attention just as the light dimmed. She threw a harried "Excuse me" behind her as she went to attend to Billy's costume drama and left Zack staring at the spot she had just occupied.

The whole exchange couldn't have lasted more than 30 seconds, yet Zack felt like he had wasted so much time.

* * *

"You're a freaking pussy," Freddy commented at the end of the story.

There wasn't enough time at lunch, so he and Freddy had to wait until after school for Zack to finish. Without band practise today, there really wasn't anywhere they had to be, and Freddy offered him a ride home.

"You are what you eat," Zack fired back easily. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Freddy's response to his comeback, and he was not disappointed. The pen Freddy was twirling was hanging limply from his fingers, and his eyes and mouth were wide open in shock.

Zack quirked up his eyebrow with a smirk, and Freddy burst into action. He got Zack into a chokehold as best as he could being held back by his seatbelt. "What the hell!? You little douchebag! Who taught you to say that? Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Freddy teased as he tried to give Zack a noogie. All the while, Zack laughed and only put up a little bit of a fight.

"Mr. Jones and friend!" the chauffer chastised from the front of the town car.

They both settled into their seats with matching grins of mischief on their faces.

When they pulled up to Zack's house, Freddy stopped him before he left the car. "Halo marathon later?"

"You know it man," Zack smirked.

He smiled to himself as he let himself into his house. Freddy might finally be coming around.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N (11.25.2018): I know, I'm super late, but we're gonna have to get used to it. I didn't have as much of this written as I thought, and now it's gonna wind it being longer than anticipated! Ah well. Also, I'm thinking of changing the title to "a note to make you understand" from Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes. Tell me via PM or review if that's a terrible idea or not.

Finally, thank you very much to my story's first follower! This one's for you. :)

* * *

THURSDAY

After warm-ups, Zack spoke up at band rehearsal for basically the first time ever.

"Dewey, I think we should go back to songwriting."

Dewey had his eyebrows raised, and everyone in the band turned to look at him.

Zack cleared his throat to stall before continuing, hyper-aware of how everyone was staring at him with varying levels of shock and interest. "We have less than a month to come up with a new original song, and I think we did good work Monday that we should build off of. If we come up with more than one song, we'd be able to release an EP or something sooner rather than later if we get our record deal. That is, if we're all taking this seriously."

Dewey looked impressed and even a little proud. "I think you mean _when_ we get our record deal because we abso-freaking-lutely are taking this seriously! Nice thinking, Zack Attack."

He turned to everyone else and exclaimed, "You heard the man! We're putting our thinking caps on and getting back into the songwriting mojo; and in the mojo we shall remain until we come up with a rockin' song! I don't care where you are or who you're working with as long as you're working. We'll meet up again in an hour; no dilly-dallying! Zack-aroo, you're with me."

When he and Dewey were alone, Zack asked, "Did you get my email?"

"You're darn tootin' I got your email. It's some pretty deep stuff, Z. Everything alright?"

Zack hesitated. He didn't know how much he could say without worrying or maybe even offending Dewey. Instead, he asked, "What do you think is going to happen to us when we go to high school?"

Dewey grimaced and said, "Uh, whatever you do, pay attention in class and stuff. I didn't really do whole lot of that when I was in high school… I didn't really do a lot of high school, to be honest."

Not completely surprised, Zack continued, "No I mean: what's going to happen to School of Rock? We're probably not going to all go to the same school, and we're probably going to end up farther away from your apartment than Nassau."

Dewey's face softened. He didn't make a habit of this, but he crouched down to meet Zack's eyes. "Honestly, kid, I don't know. In fact, I didn't even think you guys would want to continue this once summer vacation hit. All I know is: we're a band. We rock as a band; we make this decision _as a band_."

That wasn't the most promising answer, but Zack wouldn't have been satisfied with anything less than 100% honesty. Luckily, when it came to Dewey, that's what he'd always get. He nodded a bit and then gave a small smile.

Dewey shot up then and ruffled Zack's hair. "Alright! Back to your song. Kid, honestly, you inspire me. As soon as I got your stuff, I was like, 'Yes!' Let's talk tempo…"

At the end of the hour, Dewey called everyone back together to share what they came up with. Like Zack (and Summer) anticipated, there were a lot more ideas thanks to their work on Monday. Rehearsal ended on a high note, pun not intended.

When Zack got home, he was absolutely inspired. He and Dewey covered a lot of ground at practise, and he thought he finally figured out how to complete the song.

But he needed his guitar.

He tried to do his homework as quickly as possible, thinking through what he was going to say all the while. He finished just in time to hear his father enter the house.

"Dad? Can you come here for a sec?"

Zack heard his father's footsteps approach, and when his dad turned into the dining room, his eyebrow was raised in a silent question.

Zack swept his arm out in reference to all his papers and books on the table. "I finished my homework."

The eyebrow was still raised. "I would hope so, seeing as how you have class tomorrow."

Zack took a deep breath. "I want to play my guitar."

"You know I take no issue when you practise your pieces for Ms. Sheinkopf's class," his father replied coolly.

"My electric guitar," Zack clarified.

He and his dad stared at each other for an indeterminate amount of time before his father sighed and sank into a chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. "If I can hear it from the base of the stairs, you're turning it off. You are to come down for dinner the _first_ time your mother calls. If I find you awake after 10p, I don't want to hear music coming out of your room for the rest of the week."

Zack's eyes and smile grew wider as his dad spoke and as he realised what he wasn't saying. He could hardly believe it. "Yes! Yes. Thank you, dad!" He bounded up the stairs to his room and got to work. He was able to nail down some verses and compose a melody for a clarinet before dinner.

"What were you working on up there, sweetie?" his mom asked. "It didn't sound like anything I've heard you play before."

"I would hope so; I just wrote it," Zack replied, sounding both shy and proud.

"You wrote that?" his dad asked from the head of the table, clearly shocked.

Zack looked over to his father and kept the pride in his voice. His dad could force him out of the band, he could make him go to high school in China, but he couldn't stop him from making music. "Yeah, I did."

"Huh," his father intoned. It was silent after that, with his mother glancing between her husband and son. She finally cleared her throat and changed the subject. Zack spent the rest of dinner in silence, half-listening to his parents' idle chatter about the stock market.

* * *

FRIDAY

The next morning, he woke up a little earlier so that he could email Dewey his new work before the bus came. Zack was on his way out the door when his dad stopped him at the doorway. "Son, let me take you to school."

Not in any position to disobey a direct order (and an order it was), Zack acquiesced. He followed his dad into his cushy BMW 330i. As his dad drove through their upscale neighbourhood, there was silence between them. That was actually pretty customary for them, but usually Zack could leave the radio playing to fill the empty air. He didn't think that would go over well right now, though.

Finally, his dad pulled into a spot in the school parking lot, but he let the car stay idle, which was how Zack knew he was not yet free to go.

While facing forward, his dad said, "We need to talk about last week."

Zack remained silent, unwilling to speak until absolutely necessary. His father continued, "I was wrong to raise my voice at you like that. If I won't tolerate it when you do it to me, I cannot expect you to tolerate it when I do it to you. I'm sorry."

Zack was surprised but pleased at the apology. He gave a small smile before saying, "Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that."

His father looked over at him and smiled back briefly. He turned back towards the front, sighed, then unbuckled his seatbelt so that he could face his son more clearly. "You're talented, Zack. I may not say it a lot, but it's true. I have no doubt that in more optimal conditions, your talent and passion would be enough."

Zack's jaw dropped a little, disbelieving that he was actually hearing praise from his father regarding his musicianship.

"It's just that… I'm worried, son. I was hoping that by now I'd see something else from you, something that we could turn into a career. There's just no stability in music. You know that right? Look at your Finn friend. He wasn't even able to pay for his apartment until he hijacked a group of fifth graders. Is that the future you want for yourself?"

Zack's mood darkened at hearing his dad's thinly veiled criticism of Dewey, and his dad hurried to make his point. "That's why I need you to stop this and focus on something else for a change, before it turns into something that I can't help you with. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"

He expected an answer to the question, but Zack had none to give. Instead, he just turned his head to face out the window, the least responsive he could get away with being when it came to his father.

His dad's tone of voice may have been more gentle than it was before, but the words were the same. He still didn't get where Zack was coming from.

His dad sighed once more. "Think about this, okay?" He re-buckled his seatbelt and faced forward: Zack's dismissal, which he took eagerly.

He was just going through the motions as the day progressed, distracted by his conversation with his dad. But then something happened during a break in between biology and Brit-lit.

Summer came up to his desk.

In his mind, there was wind from an indeterminate source blowing her hair out behind her. She was sauntering towards him, radiating charisma and confidence. She sat on the corner of his desk, leaned over so far that she was close enough to kiss, and said in a sultry voice, "Good job at practise yesterday."

Wait, she actually said that in real life. He shook his head to dispel the daydream. "Huh?"

To his chagrin, she was a respectable distance away, but she was legitimately perched on his desk! "At practise, when you rallied everyone to actually start creating music? That was a really good idea."

His eyes widened, misunderstanding her comment. "Oh no! Summer, I swear, I didn't mean to take credit for what you said, but I just agreed with you, and I actually said something similar to Freddy and them last Friday, so I thought that maybe—"

Summer's chuckle interrupted him before he could babble any further. "Thanks, Zack, but that's not what I meant. It was a good idea to bring it up in front of Dewey. He may be… Dewey, but he cares about SOR's future probably more than anyone else here. He _would_ be the one to whip everyone into shape when the time came."

"Well, it really _was_ a good idea, Summer," he said earnestly, looking up into her face.

She flushed but composed herself immediately. Still, _he did that_. He needed to put himself in a position to compliment her more often, clearly. She asked, "Well, were you and Dewey able to get anything started? I know it's all of our responsibilities, but if anyone's going to be able to actually _finish_ a song, it's you two."

"Oh yeah, we're getting something together. Uh, remember that little thing I came up with before? That made it in."

"Great!" She smiled winsomely before they heard Mr. Dunham re-enter the room. She hopped off his desk. "I should get back to my seat, but…"

The daydream came back again in full force. "I can't wait to hear it," she said, her voice pitched low. Daydream!Summer winked before turning on her heel to walk back to her desk, her skirt swaying at her knees.

"Care to join us in class today, Mr. Mooneyham?" Mr. Dunham called from the front, dragging Zack out of his reverie. He heard Freddy behind him snickering, no doubt having witnessed that whole exchange. Zack smirked.

"Yeah, I figured I'd swing by for a minute or two," he responded loudly and clearly. Some of his classmates chuckled, and he saw Summer turn her head to face him with amused shock, the upturned corners of her lips unmistakable.

"Alright. Very clever, Mr. Mooneyham. Since you're such a jokester today, why don't you start analysing the assigned reading from Shakespeare's seminal comedy, 'Much Ado About Nothing?'"

Honestly, it was totally worth it. Of course it would take no less than the girl of his dreams to bring him out of his funk.

* * *

They used to have band practise (or as Dewey liked to called it, "Advanced Rock!" exclamation point included) Monday through Thursday. Back then, the constant rehearsing was really important to help them all get their footing as a band (for the musicians) and as a brand (for the roadies). Over the summer, it was reduced to once a week to accommodate vacations and such. Since they're not booked as often as they used to be, only one extra day was added when the school year started back up.

It was an off day, but Zack went to Dewey's apartment anyway to keep working on the song. He didn't think about calling ahead or anything, but he knew Dewey wouldn't mind.

After a short hour of working in Zack's new melodies and tweaking some lyrics so that they were easier to sing, Dewey declared, "Alrighty, I think this is ready to go to the band."

Zack was shocked and confused. "What!? Are you sure? We don't even have something for the backup singers. I don't think it's ready yet…"

"Zack, what do I always say?"

Without hesitating, he said, "'It's not over until the fat man sings.'"

"NO! I mean, true, but no! 'Rock ain't about doing things perfect!' There's nothing more we can do between just the two of us. We need to get the other guys in on this. It's when we start fu—fudging up that we'll know what to fix."

As always, there was merit to Dewey's point, but Zack was not convinced. This was the first time he wrote a song that he actually intended for the band to play. He knew he had no reason to be nervous, especially since he had Dewey's backing and everyone's trust…

But still.

Dewey could tell something was up, but he didn't push. Instead, he said, "Hey, c'mon. I'll give ya a ride home."

In the car, Zack's reticence persisted, so Dewey tried to break the ice. "Made any progress on Sunshine yet?"

Zack blushed deeply. "Um, not overtly."

Dewey raised his eyebrow at this but remained silent. He didn't have to wait long for a follow-up. "I may have… written her a part in the song."

Dewey sharply looked over to Zack in shock, causing him to miss a stop sign and narrowly avoid running over a bicyclist, cursing all the while.

After righting the car and trying to keep his focus on the road, Dewey asked, "Like, the song we just finished?"

Zack remained silent, unsure if a verbal confirmation would result in another near-death experience. Dewey took the silence for what it was. "Um, Zack, I know you're hardcore crushing on her right now, but you were there when she auditioned to be a backup singer, right? Like, rose-coloured glasses and all, but your girl got no sense of pitch."

"Yeah, haha, but, uh, no. I want her to _play_ in the song. That last email I sent you? It's sorta meant for her. She can play the clarinet."

Dewey absolutely did not see this coming. "Wow," he intoned. "That's a really freakin romantic move, Z. She must have loved that."

"Actually, she doesn't know yet?" It wasn't meant to be a question, but it sounded like one.

"What do you mean 'she doesn't know yet?'" Dewey asked incredulously.

Zack, defensive, responded, "I literally just thought of the idea on Tuesday!"

Dewey huffed. "Okayyy," he dragged out. "So were you planning on telling her before band practise Monday or is she gonna find out along with everyone else? 'Cause between you and me, I don't think Summer is the kind of chick that appreciates being blindsided in public like that."

Zack literally threw up his arms in defeat. "I don't know! I didn't really think about that!"

Dewey stayed silent for a while longer before, "I might have a plan, little man."

They spent the rest of the car ride fine-tuning Dewey's idea, which had Zack in a really good mood until Dewey pulled up to his house.

"What's the matter, Z?" Dewey asked, obviously noticing Zack's change in demeanour.

"My mom is home," he said simply. Sure enough, his mother's Cadillac DeVille was sitting in the driveway. He glanced at the mailbox but couldn't tell the status of its contents from where he was.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I will be."

"... That's not promising, but fine. You know how to reach me."

Zack steeled his nerves as he exited Dewey's van. He checked the mailbox: empty. _Dammit_.

As he ran up the steps to his home, he comforted himself with the knowledge that his father's car was mercifully absent. Despite their civil conversation this morning, he didn't think his dad would appreciate what he did. His mother's anger could be just as fierce as his dad's, but she was far more prone to leniency.

He found his mom in the living room, going over the high school propaganda. Zack stepped forward, knowing that his mom would hear him.

"Zachary, have a seat," she commanded without looking up. He sat one cushion away from her and waited.

"I suspected you'd been throwing out the high school letters, but I couldn't confirm that until tonight," she began, still facing the letter in his hand. He could recognise the coat of arms of Dalton from where he sat. He didn't say anything in response to her, wanting to know what direction she was headed in before he did anything.

Finally, she lifted her head up to face him. His heart burned at seeing the disappointment and confusion in his mother's face. "Is this about last week?"

Zack shook his head quickly, but after thinking about it, hedged, "I'd been doing it before then, but that didn't really help."

She nodded slowly, not surprised. "Why?"

"What?" Zack asked like she just spoke in another language.

"Why are you doing this?"

Zack _never_ got a chance to explain himself; it just didn't happen. He almost didn't even know what to do.

"When you guys talk about which high school to go to, it's such a loaded conversation. You're not just talking about high school: you're also talking about college, you're also talking about School of Rock. You act like I have to choose between playing in the band now and going to college later! What kind of ultimatum is that?

"And you make me feel like I'm gonna screw up the rest of my life if I so much as choose the wrong thing to eat at breakfast, which… That's _so_ much pressure on me, you know? I don't even turn twelve for a couple more weeks; how can you ask me to be okay with that kind of responsibility? So, yeah, I dumped the high school stuff. If it got you guys to get off my back, I would have swam the Sound."

He started slowly; but as he spoke, he became more impassioned. By the end, Zack was heaving like he really did swim the Long Island Sound. He was afraid of what he would see, but he forced himself to meet his mother's gaze.

When he made eye contact with her, she shuffled closer to him on the couch and opened her arms. He gladly let her hold him. He didn't project a strong enough image of a 'tough guy' to reject the comfort of his mother's embrace.

Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft in the empty living room, "You know, you're just pretending the problem doesn't exist. That never works, Zack. I would have thought I taught you better than that."

"You did," he mumbled into her shoulder.

She squeezed him once before breaking their hug and placing her hands firmly on his shoulders. "What is it that you want?"

What _did_ Zack want? It would be so easy for him to say that he wanted his parents to butt out of this decision, that he'd go wherever his friends went to high school, that he'd ignore college until junior year like everyone else, and that he'd stick with the band come hell or high water.

But then Zack remembered his talk with Dewey, about how the future of the band is so uncertain; and he remembered his dad's words from this morning. As much as he hated it, he knew he had to make a more mature decision here.

"All I know for sure is that I'm gonna keep making music, even if School of Rock breaks up. I guess it doesn't really matter which high school I go to as long as I can keep music."

His mother nodded. "Here's what's going to happen: I am going to show your father these brochures," she said while referencing the papers on the coffee table, "because these are really good schools, and you are going to you're going to stop interfering with the mail. What do you even do with all of it?"

"I put it in the Obermeyers' recycling."

She tried to look disapproving, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. The corner of his lips quirked up in a smile, and he shrugged.

She continued, "I'm also going to tell your father everything you just told me. He deserves to know, don't you think?"

Zack nodded reluctantly, his anxiety over how his dad might react showing on his face.

"Oh, honey…" his mom cooed as she gathered him in her arms again. "As much as we want to see you succeed, we also want to see you be happy. You know that, right?"

He nodded against the soft cotton of her cardigan-clad shoulder.

She let him go then and let out a sharp huff of hair. "Come on, why don't you help me with dinner? I'm thinking lasagna," his mother offered as she stood up. Zack grinned at her and followed her to the kitchen.

His dad came home not long after, so he set the dining room table while Zack and his mom cleaned up the kitchen.

"Sweetie, you're done with your homework already, right?" his mother commented casually, but loudly enough for he husband to hear.

"Yeah, everything that's due tomorrow at least. Why?" Zack questioned.

"Why don't you head up to your room and practise that lovely song we heard from you yesterday? I'll make your dad help me in here."

Zack stared at her in surprise. From the corner of his eye, he could see his dad giving his mother a similar look.

"Go on; I'll call you down when dinner's ready," she said with a wink. Zack's surprise shifted into a grin as he looked between her and his dad.

"Yeah, alright, mom. Thanks!" he said before he left the kitchen. He had no idea what this could mean, but it could only mean good things. Right?


End file.
